Roadtrip
by Mercury-Moon-7490195
Summary: When Cecil procured the paperwork for an extended vacation with Carlos outside of Night Vale, he may have underestimated all that it would entail. Cecil/Carlos, After the set up, it'll will be more vignettes than long chapters. Rating will most likely go up. Maybe.


Carlos sat with his back to the window, his fingers steepled under his chin. The sun inched towards the horizon behind him, trailing streaks of brilliant pink and purple across the hazy sky, yet the spectacle went completely unnoticed. The reddish-orange light only served to highlight the small shoebox on Carlos' desk, wrapped around several times with duct tape. A white rose was threaded through a few of the layers of tape, a tag tied to it that read:

_A Surprise for you, my perfect Carlos. -C_

C as in Cecil. Or at least so he hoped. Cecil wouldn't send him anything _intentionally _dangerous...would he? Unintentionally dangerous, sure. With Cecil, and Night Vale in general, it was always hard to tell. And the chances that the contents of this package were dangerous was at _least _seventy-five percent, if not more. Just on his current hypothesis alone.

The door slammed back on its hinges, making him jump. "I'm back," one of his interns grunted, carrying a large, heavy pot and hoisting it onto the lab table. She yanked her headphones out of her ears and threw them back in the pocket of her labcoat before slumping into a chair.

"Just you?" Carlos stared at her over his glasses, frowning. "What happened to Jacobson?"

"He almost got out," Intern Alyssa said brusquely. "But they mentioned he'd never need to wash test tubes again if he stayed, and that was that." she tapped the terra-cotta lazily. "This bastard _really_ didn't want to go."

"That's not very nice of you to say," a tiny voice squeaked. Carlos stood, pulling on rubber gloves as he hurried over.

"So you did manage to get one," He said eagerly, smiling. A tiny sapling swayed in the middle of the pot, its leaves quivering violently.

"I had to leave the shovel behind...I don't think the other trees were too happy that I took one of their own."

"Shovels are easy enough to replace." Carlos muttered, running his hands through his hair. "Thank you, Alyssa. Can you grab my clipboard?"

She did so, quickly "Is that all for tonight then? I'd like to get home before dark tonight...and/or before the trees come looking for this little guy."

"Yes, yes, that's fine," Carlos said distractedly, jotting down some notes with his makeshift pen. "Really good job today, thank you."

Alyssa nodded. She crossed the room and shed her lab coat, hanging it carefully on the rack. "Oh, and you might want to take a look at that paperwork on your desk."

"What paperwork?"

"The one in the box. White rose plus black duct tape means urgent paperwork. With a due date approaching, if I'm not mistaken."

Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Why would he...nevermind. I'll take a look at it in a minute."

If she replied, he had tuned it out, too busy scribbling down the description of the tiny sapling and its ongoing stream of passive-aggresive whisperings.

"When the forest finds you, you'll become one of us forever. They'll hunt you down and take me back and take you with them, and then you'll be happy and carefree and everything will be wonderful! Your hair will make wonderful leaves when you're a tree-You'll make a wonderful tree, once they find you, and bring me back home."

"I don't want to be a tree," Carlos said absently, still scribbling. His cocktail straw was starting to bend between his fingers, he was going to have to get another soon, or somehow sneak some pens into the lab, and hide them where neither the secret police, nor Cecil could find them.

"You should really take me back to the woods now," the sapling said firmly. "The man on the radio would take me back."

Carlos stopped, staring at the plant. "The man on the radio?"

"Yep. The nice man on the radio, he sounds nice, he'd take me back to my forest."

Carlos leaned over and turned the radio up, just in time to hear the opening music for Cecil's show.

"Today, Big Rico, owner of Big Rico's Pizza, announced that in spite of his recent and continuing possession by the spirit of famous Queen front-man Freddie Mercury, he will not be leaving the pizza business to pursue a career in rock stardom. "This restaurant is my home," he said to us in an interview. "And I wouldn't change that for the world." He then returned to kneading his gluten-free pizza dough, singing _Another One Bites the Dust _under his breath. So that _is _good news folks. We won't be losing another staple of our community to the lure of the stage any time soon. Also, happy customers have reported that every pizza slice ordered now comes with a free song rendition, sung by Big Rico himself as he brings your food to your keep rocking, Big Rico, and keep making those wonderful pizzas of yours. Remember folks, No one Makes a Slice like Big Rico's. No one. "

Carlos snorted. He sat down next to the plant, his writing slowing slightly as Cecil's voice continued. The sapling was surprisingly silent, and seemed to be listening intently.

_Seems to have amplified hearing, _he scribbled quietly. _Enjoys the sound of Cecil (See file 1A-NVCR)'s voice on the radio._

_Then again, who doesn't, _Carlos added mentally, smiling to himself.

"Well, listeners. I may have some exciting, earth shaking news. Maybe. I need some confirmation by a certain scientist, who will remain unnamed, before I can deliver this amazing, fantastic news, after all, I don't want to report a false alarm. Maybe we'll see, you know, later in our broadcast. For now, let's take a look at traffic."

Carlos shook his head, smiling. "Alright, alright, I can take a hint," he muttered, and texted Cecil so. He grabbed the box and brought it over to the lab table, keeping one eye on the plant as he cut through the black tape. Taking a deep breath, box cutter still clenched in his hand, he set the rose aside and opened the box.

Inside sat a bundle of papers, tied together with several thick bungee cords. On top of the pile sat an envelope, with his name scrawled across the back in not-ink. He opened it quickly, a folded sheet of paper falling into his lap.

_Dearest Carlos, _it read.

_I have given much thought to what you said many, many Sundays ago, about not getting a day off from science, and I believe I have found a solution that will work best for all parties involved. You see, someone over city hall, I am not at liberty to say who, owed me a bit of a favor, so I went ahead and bought us both some vacation time, the paperwork for which should be under this letter, as long as neither has wandered off. (Please alert me if this is the case as if so we have a rather big problem that I will need to report to the public and city council) But as long as both are still in this box, they should be good. Good for anywhere you'd like to go, so long as we can get there and back in the span of two-and-a-half weeks. I'll even drive, if you'd like. Anywhere, honestly. The only thing that might limit that is station management's insistence that I may still have to do my broadcasts every night, so our hotels may need to be sort of near radio towers, or at least in or near towns that have ones._

_I must be off, my radio audience waits on baited breath to hear my melodious voice, and I do not wish to disappoint any of them by being late. Call me with your answer soon, and we can meet and fill out the paperwork together, perhaps over coffee. Don't forget to bring the rose along with the paperwork, it is important._

_All my love, _

_Cecil _

Carlos let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding as he read, leaning back in his chair. A million questions exploded through his mind, most of them beginning with an incredulous, belligerent _How?!_

He grabbed the phone and dialed Cecil's number without pausing, his fingers winding through his hair again. It went to voicemail as it always did during broadcast time.

"Hello, this is Cecil Baldwin and Welcome to Voicemail. Neither I nor an intern could retrieve this phone in time to answer your call, so leave your name and number after the beep and your call will be returned as soon as possible."

"Cecil," Carlos said emphatically, gripping the letter tightly in his hand. "I-you-there are way too many questions to fit in the span of a voicemail, so call me back during the weather, okay? I...well, I need to talk to you. Not in a _WE NEED TO TALK _way, in a just..._HOW?! _Cecil please call me back. Thanks."

He fell back against the chair, phone dangling from his hand as he stared up at the ceiling. The paper shook in his hands as he tried to force himself to be calm, to not get his hopes up too high. Two and a half weeks-seventeen whole days! Seventeen whole days away from the madness of Night Vale...it was almost too good to be true. Hell, forget almost. There was no way Cecil could have made that many stars align to get the city council, the station management, the secret police and whomever else's approval they'd need to actually leave Night Vale, to all agree to let them do so. At best it was another of Cecil's madcap schemes, destined to putter out and end up as just what could have been, and wouldn't earn them more than a stern word and a beleaguered sigh from the sheriff's secret police. At worst...maybe Cecil didn't even type this letter. Maybe it was the secret police all along, trying to lure him out of Night Vale. Trying to lure them both into the desert, where they'd be waiting with shotguns in hand-

He let out a groan, crumpling the paper up in his hands. "I'm being paranoid," he muttered, pushing his glasses up into his hair and massaging his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"You're being paranoid!" The sapling echoed brightly.

"And now listeners...the weather." As the first guitar chord strummed across the airwaves, Carlos's phone began to vibrate.

"I tried to get them to play the longest song that fit," Cecil said as soon as he answered. "I assume you got the package then?"

"Yeah." Carlos rested his head on the table, pushing the box away from him. "It is from you, right?"

"Of course...Carlos, are you feeling okay? Are the fumes in that lab going to your head?"

"Maybe...I don't know." Carlos took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose where his glasses rested. "So this vacation thing. You're serious. Like it's actually a thing that could happen."

"As long as we get the paperwork turned in on time, yeah. Do you want to go?"

"It would be nice to get out of town," Carlos mused, hesitating. "You're sure it's okay? With the council, I mean..."

"They notarized the paperwork, so I'd say so. And station management has to let me go, with all the vacation hours I've racked up over the years. I haven't left town since my trip to Svitz," he admitted. "I've had no reason to, until now."

"Yeah..." Carlos stared up at the ceiling. "I'm just not sure-"

"-Sure of what? Come on, Carlos," Cecil pleaded. "Just think about it. No pressing deadlines, no hurrying around, no having to save the town from certain destruction...just you and me and this big wide world of ours...we can sleep til noon if we want...or maybe not sleep at all, if you know what I mean." He could practically feel Cecil wink over the phone.

"And I mean really, you know what they say, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy...which reminds me, we should see if the Overlook Hotel is taking reservations this time of year."

Carlos laughed dryly. "How about no," he said, his smile slowly reappearing. "I guess...well, hm. I guess we should start by getting this paperwork done then."

Cecil beamed, "Meet me here after the broadcast. We can grab some food and fill them out, maybe put on a movie or something."

"Sounds good." Carlos said. "Before you go, this paperwork doesn't happen to come with a temporary lift on the pen ban, does it?"

"That's what the rose is for," Cecil replied quickly. "Sorry, my dear, weather's almost over. I'll see you in a bit, alright?"

"Alright. Soon. Bye..." He hung up and stared at the box for another long second, before he stood, fetching a large glass tank. He hoisted the tiny sapling into it and secured the lid, pausing only to scribble down its last ramblings before hurrying out to the car, taking the box and the rose with him. He sped off towards the station, just as the weather ended and Cecil's voice retook the airways.

"Well Night Vale, it's official. Sometime in the near future, if the future ever does arrive at all, Carlos and I will be going on a vacation! Just the two of us, can you imagine?! But don't panic, of course don't panic; I'll still be doing my show from the road. I wouldn't leave you in the lurch, listeners, without my melodious voice to soothe you to sleep every night. I will continue to broadcast on my travels-"

There was the slight click of a door, and a rustling of papers handed to him by and intern. "Ah," Cecil murmured. "Thank you. Listeners, Intern Amy has handed me a note to remind you that if _you _are thinking of vacationing this year, you should first consider the scenic destinations our fair city has to offer, like our very own Radon Canyon. For the thrill seeker, why not try Six Flags Desert Springs, on route 64 right outside of Night Vale? The most luxurious beaches in the world cannot compare to the feeling of the sun beating down on your neck or the sand rubbing between your toes with each step when you spend your vacation time in the scrub lands, and the sand wastes, right outside of town. Cut down on your travel time, and support our towns own flourishing tourism trade! Think twice before trying to leave, listeners. You may not be able to return home...or even find it, if you do. Carlos and I have taken all of the necessary precautions to make sure that when we do return from this absence, we will indeed return. We dearly wish that our time could be spent in all of Night Vales many scenic destinations but, as it were, Carlos has been invited to speak at some very prestigious Scientific Conventions. I myself have also been chosen to represent Night Vale Community Radio in the West Coast Invitational Radio Convention, and will be doing so with great pride and joy. We are both _PROUD _to represent all of Night Vale to the greater radio and scientific communities. Though we leave this town with hearts heavy, already missing the dear, familiar streets of our dear, familiar home, we go with our heads held high. We will serve you well, Night Vale. We will keep your spirit alive in our hearts, and carry it with us out into the world until we may graciously return. But, for now, the lights are flickering across the void, and we have once again come to the time for me to leave you to your thoughts, with only one last thought to send you off into the night. And that, of course, as always has been and always will be, goes thusly...Good Night, Night Vale. Good Night."

The outro music lingered for a moment, then faded until the booth was silent, the red light on the _ON AIR _sign blinking out. Cecil let out a hiss of held breath out through his teeth, sliding his headphones off of his head.

"Are we all clear?" he asked, paging the booth.

Intern Amy nodded. "Yep, just getting the door now. One moment..." The heavy locks and tumblers clicked and turned inside the door, which eventually popped open. Cecil quickly hurried for the exit, stuffing his notes into his messenger bag. "Is he here yet?"

"In the lobby." She said quickly, handing him an envelope. "Management."

"Dammit." He tore it open, quickly reading the messily scrawled note.

_**NO RADIO CONVENTIONS. NO REVEALING STATION SECRETS TO OTHER RADIO PROFESSIONALS. **_

"Of course!" Cecil yelled in management's direction. "Wouldn't dream of it!"

Nothing moved behind the door. "I think they got it then," Cecil said. "I'm off then. Have a good night, Amy."

"But sir-" Amy called after him. "If you're leaving, what will that mean for us-How is this going to work?!"

"We'll get it all figured out on Monday!" He called back, hurrying down the hall. "Don't worry about it!" He turned a corner and broke into a run, crumpling managements note in his fist. The lobby was almost in sight, the details would have to wait-Carlos was only a few more minutes of running away!

_We're really going,_ he thought exuberantly, skipping down the hall. _Carlos, my Carlos! And I are going on vacation!_

When he finally burst out into the lobby, he nearly tackled Carlos in a joyous bear hug, picking him up and swinging him in a circle.

"Cecil," Carlos laughed. "Put me down-"

But he was already back on the ground, Cecil backing away with a wide, beaming smile on his face. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Just-you. Thank you." He cleared his throat, composing himself slightly before offering his arm. "I've got a surprise...another surprise for you at home that has nothing to do with paperwork. Shall we go?"

Carlos nodded, taking his arm and strolling out of the studio. "So," he said slowly as they slid into Carlos' car. "I guess the first question would be where we should go...have you given any thought to it?"

"Mhm." Cecil said, settling into the seat. "I think I might have a few ideas..."


End file.
